Looking at the mirror, all I can see is the shell of a person she used to be. The black slightly curled hair pooling around her face, hiding the pair of eyes that just shows how much dead she is inside. The tear streaked cheeks, so wet from a life time of tears. Those lips, which is so used to fake smiling.
Staring at the mirror I can’t help but pity her. The poor girl doesn’t even want to survive anymore. Her hands are bleeding from holding on to something that’s not even there.
She may have survived the Storm but she didn’t make it whole. The only thing left after the storm is the shell, just the shell of a dead girl.
Abhirose 